Alien Resistance (Zyrgin Warriors Book 4)

by Marie Dry

  Madison stared at the cream curtains her mother had made her. She’d forgotten to pull them closed and she blinked at the harsh sunshine hurting her eyes. She couldn’t process what her bleary mind told her. The TC was flickering and she groaned. There must have been a power cut during the night, and her alarm never went off. You’d think the solar would kick in at least. Because they were on the same electricity grid as the hospital, their apartment building should be safe from load shedding, but the reality was it happened all the time. Only now a monster alien, that grabbed people by the throat if they didn’t stick to his rules, was in charge of the hospital.

  “I need to get more than two or three hours sleep a night,” she muttered and staggered out of bed as fast as her sore muscles allowed. For the first time she was thankful for the small space she lived in. She couldn’t have staggered more than a few steps to the bathroom.

  She said a quick prayer the hospital’s generator kicked in this time. They’d lost patients during power cuts before. She was late, that reptile was going to grab her by the throat and choke her. She shuddered while she stuck her toothbrush in her mouth. Or cut off her head, the way he’d executed those three people last month. She’d been spared any dealings with him lately, but many of the other doctors had tales to tell.

  Madison put a protective hand over her throat, rushed to the kitchen and then almost cried. She’d worked too late to buy food. With a sigh she locked her door and rushed outside. Normally she would be afraid to walk to the hospital alone this early, but lately the men who had made their lives difficult on the streets had disappeared. She tried to hurry, but she was so tired it was hard to run.

  The hospital was thankfully just a few blocks from her flat.

  Madison ran into the hospital, out of breath and more than an hour late. She rushed to the office where she was supposed to sign to take over from the night staff, all the while praying that green creature didn’t cross her path. Paint fumes permeated the halls, replacing the smell of disinfectant that usually hung in the air. The sounds were different as well. All the intercoms had been disconnected, and they’d heard a better system was being installed. She had to admit it would be a huge improvement. The previous intercom system only worked intermittently and only in certain areas of the hospital.

  “Madison,” Rachel cried. Dressed in jeans and work boots and waving a paint covered brush, she rushed up to Madison, the golden highlights in her brown hair shining under the newly installed ceiling lights. Madison envied her friend her light brown skin with her whole heart. Rachel never had to worry about being in the sun too long. “Did you oversleep? You’d better hurry and get your painting gear before that alien sees you coming late.”

  “Yeah, why couldn’t he act like a good monster scientist like Dr Frankenstein. Reanimating corpses and leaving us alone.”

  Rachel waved her brush and Madison jumped back to avoid being spattered with white paint.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t understand your fascination with ancient writing,” Rachel complained.

  “I’ll tell you later, gotta run.”

  Rachel walked backward to the wall she’d been painting. “Right, see you in the cafeteria if our break times overlap.” They were allowed to break to eat and regain their puny human strength as the alien put it. Though he deemed ten minutes enough to eat. If she wasn’t so scared he’d cut off her head, she’d tell him a thing or two.

  Madison rushed to the office with the painting supplies and nearly groaned when she saw Sandra waiting to hand over. For some reason Madison couldn’t fathom, the woman hated her. The only thing she could think off was that she really did have an affair with Jacobson and hated Madison because she always bumped heads with him.

  “Late again, Madison,” Sandra said.

  Madison drew a deep breath. She ignored her comments and signed in. She accepted the brush and rollers and huge tin of paint another intern handed her. Where did they get it? Paint supplies were scarce and expensive. “You have to admit these aliens are efficient,” she muttered.

  The intern nodded.

  Everyone was outfitted with protective coats, paints, and brushes with an efficiency Madison had never experienced before. Having a building enlarged and renovated in such a short time was something none of them ever thought to experience.

  She hurried to the spot Rachel had kept for her. “I’m sorry, I should’ve made sure you were awake,” Rachel said.

  They had flats in the same building.

  Taking a deep breath, Madison applied the brush to the wall. She shrugged and then groaned when her muscles protested. “Not your fault.” She scowled at the hallway they were painting. Who knew a hospital could have so many walls. And every day that alien added more. “I’m a doctor, not a painter,” she muttered and dipped the brush into the paint again.

  “At least you get to be a doctor,” Rachel said.

  Madison didn’t like the bitterness in Rachel’s voice, but she could understand it. No one, except Madison and the three doctors who never talked to anyone, got to work at their profession. There was something strange about those three, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Everyone else slogged away like slaves building and painting. Though Madison was beginning to feel the pressure of painting the whole day and doctoring practically the whole night.

  She squared her shoulders. She was fixing to see that alien again. That was the start of another busy day only broken by a hurried lunch with Rachel.

  “I’m fixing to find Jacobson.”

  “Oh, Madison, not again. Viglar agreed to let you go back to being a doctor. Don’t make him mad enough to cut off your head.”

  “I’ll be careful, but I have to speak to him.” She didn’t want Rachel to get her hopes up. If he allowed them all to go back to being doctors, maybe they could change his mind about replacing all of them.

  Eight hours later, Rachel and Madison still had an hour left of painting. “My get up and go done got up and went,” Madison told her friend.

  This time Jacobson had refused her request to see the alien and she’d reluctantly returned to painting. Every bone in her body ached, and she still had the night shift to do in the women’s ward. Showing that alien turned out to be extremely tiring.

  “If that means you’re dead tired, me too,” Rachel said.

  “I wonder what’s behind this sudden willingness of the aliens to build a hospital.”

  They’d dealt with the riots with ruthless efficiency and, shortly after that, they’d showed a hologram of their soldiers marching through Washington. Row after row of deadly looking soldiers, so many they’d marched for almost a day. Before that day there’d been doubts about how many aliens actually landed, but that display of manpower had put a stop to speculation. Madison had expected concentration camps and executions. Not for them to build hospitals. Though they’d gotten the executions too.

  Rachel rolled her eyes and brandished her brush. “It’s obvious, they want to spread goodwill, look like our saviors so that we go willingly into slavery.”

  Madison glowered in the direction of the hallway leading to the office the alien had claimed as his. The only good thing about his presence was the way he kicked Jacobson out of his office and took it over.

  “They’ve got a big surprise coming. We’re not that easy to enslave.”

  Rachel lifted a brow and continued painting.

  “We won’t let them enslave us, right?” Madison insisted.

  She held no cotton with the thought of bending her knees to alien overlords. Still Rachel’s attitude scared her, as if they had no hope of winning against the invaders.

  Rachel shrugged. “Go and tell the alien you refuse to paint anymore, since you’ve worked more than twelve hours already.” She smirked. “Let me know how that works out for you.” There was something more than sarcasm in her friend’s voice. Almost pain.

  “Rachel?”

  Rachel smiled at her. “Never mind. We’ve each got a wall
as long as the one they used to have in China to paint. Less chatting, more work.”

  They painted in silence for a while.

  “They could be planning to experiment on humans, or they’re building the hospital for more aliens they plan to relocate to earth,” Rachel said.

  “Don’t wanna hear it.” There was a lot of theories going around and they all scared her. “I’d prefer to find out when I’m sitting in a lab tube in their spaceship, not before, thank you very much.”

  Madison applied the roller to the wall, watching with satisfaction as the drab surface transformed into a pristine white wall. She was doing this because she had pride in their hospital and wanted to help transform it. That was all. She wasn’t some indoctrinated idiot willingly going into slavery. She still hated painting.

  If they tried to enslave them, experiment on humans, or use the hospital for aliens only, she’d learn to build a bomb and blow up the building. She hoped it didn’t come to that. When they’ve kicked the aliens off their planet, they could use this place. Maybe by that time, the aliens might have built a few other hospitals they could use as well.

  “That alien helped us build eighteen hours every day. You should see the speed at which he worked,” Viktor said. He’d been injured while building and put on painting duty.

  Madison could well believe that alien would jump in and help build. Viglar was the industrious type.

  “You sound as if you admire him,” Rachel sniped.

  “All I’m saying is, he’s getting massive amounts of work done,” Viktor said defensively.

  They painted in silence for a while.

  Two hours later, Madison put down her brush and, groaning, stretched to relieve the pain in her muscles.

  “Did you hear the alien kicked Jacobson out of his office,” Viktor said. He was from a farm in New York. His parents ran one of the few farms in the country that still produced apples and cantaloupe.

  Clarkson came over to join them. “That’s old news.”

  Rachel winced. “Ouch, he was so proud of his office as well.”

  “I knew he’d been kicked out, but where’s he squatting now?” Madison asked, stretching, still trying to relieve the ache in her body. She had another hour to go of painting endless stretches of walls.

  Clarkson shrugged “Don’t know, don’t care. We need to get to talk to that alien about his plans to replace us.” He’d bounced back from being strangled and now used his experience as an example of the totalitarian attitude of new management. He went to see Viglar almost as many times as Madison. There were bets going on how long he’ll still have his head attached to his body.

  “I have to take a bathroom break,” Rachel said.

  “Careful,” Viktor said from where he painted the opposite wall. “He monitors the bathroom breaks and let you have it if you’re trying to use unnecessary bodily functions as an excuse not to work.” He mimicked Viglar’s clipped way of speaking with hilarious accuracy. Several of the others laughed, but looked around carefully first. Viglar had the habit of appearing out of thin air at the worst possible moments.

  “Frankenstein’s the right name for him,” Madison muttered.

  “Who’s this Frankenstein,” Viktor asked.

  “It’s one of Madison’s obscure references to ancient writing,” Rachel said on her way to the bathroom.

  Viktor shrugged and then looked around. “Where’s Sandra gone to?” She’d been painting a little bit down from them, but was nowhere to be seen now.

  The air electrified and everyone who’d been tired and working sluggishly suddenly appeared energized.

  Madison’s voodoo senses vibrated. Even before she turned to see what was going on she knew the alien was there. Her eyes clashed with that evil black-hole gaze. Those shameful shivers ran all over her body again.

  Viglar stood in the door of one of the supply rooms leading to the corridor they painted and he looked directly at her. As if only the two of them existed in that long hallway.

  The world exploded.

  Chapter 3

  Madison’s arm hurt, unpleasant ringing drilled through her ears into her head. The hospital floor felt cold and sticky under her. Strange sounds came from all around her, but she heard it as if through water. She moaned and tried to move to get her arm that was twisted under her into a more comfortable position. It didn’t feel broken or sprained, just awkward. Her body wouldn’t move.

  Dazed she looked around. Interns lay as if scattered on the broken floor tiles. Red smears and puddles stained the tiles and wall everywhere she could see.

  She had to blink several times before she could focus. The once pristine white wall opposite her had strange red patterns on them and it took a while for her to realize the wall hadn’t magically changed to red. It dripped with blood. Like a macabre painting done in red on white. Now I’m going to have to paint it again, she thought dazedly.

  Through the screams and ringing in her ears she heard a moan. Viktor, who’d been flirting with her the whole afternoon, lay in a pool of blood, his limbs at a strange angle. His black skin was grey. She moaned and tried to get up to help him but still couldn’t lift herself off the floor. No matter how hard she screamed at her body, it wouldn’t budge. The world around her moved in slow motion.

  Two white blurs raced around the room and her mind couldn’t make sense of it. Everyone else moved sluggishly, but what looked like two white coats darted like humming birds. Why could the blurs move while she was paralyzed? She blinked and they’d gone onto the next injured person. Interspersed between the white blurs was a green blur. She must’ve hit her head and that caused her to see moving white and green paint blurs. But how? What did she do before she ended up on the floor? Why did she end up on the floor? She managed to lift the arm not trapped under her and clutched her aching head. She’d been painting and then Viglar stood behind them. Maybe he tried to cut off her head. She gingerly touched her neck--nope, still whole and attached.

  “What happened?” Her voice wouldn’t work. The words coming out slurred. Lost among the screaming and sobbing.

  The green blur went from person to person and then it sped over to her. Madison blinked. A few aliens crouched before her, all their hands moving up and down in front of her, and then he pressed something against her neck. Suddenly, she saw only one of him, her focus improving. He held a silver gadget in his paw and leaned forward.

  She cringed back. “Please don’t eat me,” she said in an embarrassing squeaky voice.

  In the clips the resistance released, every now and then, they’d shown the aliens savagely tearing humans apart and eating their entrails.

  “Human, I’ve never been that hungry,” he said in a voice that reminded her of ice, of glaciers breaking up.

  She realized what she’d just said--to whom she just said it--and felt dizzy again. Now he probably felt justified in calling humans stupid.

  He leaned forward and pressed something against her neck. Suddenly. the fog cleared from her mind.

  “Rachel.” She forgot her embarrassment in her fear for her friend. “Rachel was next to me.” She clutched her head. No that wasn’t right, she’d gone to the restroom. Was she safe? “Rachel?” She meant to scream, but it came out more of a moan, lost among the screams of everyone around her.

  “I’m okay.” Rachel crawled over to her. “I think the bomb was where the alien stood, but he doesn’t even look injured,” she said dazedly.

  Bomb? Madison couldn’t grasp the concept. Rachel had no bruises or obvious injuries. She must’ve been far enough away to escape damage.

  Viglar was already pressing something against another doctor’s neck.

  “I thought he was going to eat me,” Madison said, still dazed. How did Rachel know where the bomb was planted? “Are you sure it was a bomb?” Her voice wouldn’t come out louder than a whisper.

  “Madison, are you all right?” Rachel peered into her eyes. “You sound out of it.”

  Madison forced herself to focus
. “Yes, I’m fine.” She looked around, saw Viktor still lying in his own blood. She should’ve helped him sooner. He’d lost too much blood. They were going to lose him. For a moment, she couldn’t move, blind panic overtaking her. She couldn’t be responsible for another death. Not again.

  Viglar tended to a severely injured woman not far from Viktor. Madison didn’t know the woman. She wasn’t a nurse or doctor at the hospital, but she was badly injured, her body lying at an odd angle.

  “Alien, we have to help Viktor.” Madison didn’t wait to see if he heard her. She couldn’t get to her feet so she crawled over to Viktor and looked around for her medical bag. She’d had it with her for her next shift. His blood soaked through her white pants and her hands were slippery with it. When she turned back to Viktor she suppressed a sob. He was dead. He’d never again flirt with her, compete with her for promotion. She should’ve gone to him, tried to help him instead of wasting time saying senseless things to the alien. Once again, she was responsible for the death of someone. She’d been too slow coming to her senses, and Viktor paid the price.

  “Out of my way, human.” Viglar did something to Viktor with a few silver devices he attached to his head, heart, and stomach.

  Madison held her breath, she and Rachel holding onto each other with bloodied hands. Viktor’s chest rose and fell and his eyelids fluttered.

  “He’s alive,” Madison breathed.

  “Thank God, I couldn’t bear it if--” Rachel bit her lip and went to one of the wounded.

  “He shouldn’t be able to do that,” someone muttered.

  “Do not move for ten earth minutes,” Viglar told Viktor and moved on to the next wounded as if he didn’t just bring a dead man back to life.

  The alien continued to go from wounded to wounded, moving a slim silver disk over them. It was difficult to reconcile the ruthless alien who’d decapitated people with the way Viglar helped the wounded. He might be rude and brusque, but he checked each and every human who’d been near the bomb. Two people died instantly, and he didn’t bring them back to life, but all the wounded people he treated would walk out of there.